


Jeu Méchant

by PinstripesAndConverse



Category: City of Love: Paris (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Vincent's POV for events during episodes 7 and 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 19:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13173579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinstripesAndConverse/pseuds/PinstripesAndConverse
Summary: Vincent’s point of view on the race to the essence, from S1E7 & E8.  Title roughly translates to “Wicked Game”, which seems fitting for this pair.  Hints of Vincent x MC.





	Jeu Méchant

Vincent cursed as the team of diggers hit, not groundwater, but the solid foundation between the church and the crypt beneath.  Lutetia’s blood meant groundwater, so where was the water?

He ran a hand over his face, stopping just as his fingers found the bridge of his nose.  There were  _several_  springs from the Roman era of the city.  He didn’t have time to search all of them, he needed to secure the essence before that insufferable American and Laurent and anyone else could stand in his way again.  He barked an order for them to gather their tools (he’d send a donation later for the damage), and got into one of the waiting cars outside of the church.

Vincent pulled out his phone.  TJ had a tracking device in his phone, planted there before Vincent gave it to him in the first place; he had spotted the orange jacket in the crowd at the exhibit, so he was likely tagging along with the journalist.  Traitor. After everything he did for the young man…

His phone dinged, a blue dot showing TJ’s location. If the boy truly wanted to be rid of his leash, his phone should have been the first to go.

“Eugene, Saint George’s Square.”

The red-haired driver nodded, tired squealing as he pulled away from the curb and onto the busy evening streets.  Vincent leaned back in his seat, eyes falling to the passing cars and buildings.  

He was played for a fool once already.  Raphael dared show his face at  _his_  exhibit, a move he took to be disrespectful as well as stupid.  The man might have gotten a head-start, but Vincent would finish this, once and for all.  That American…she was steadfastly loyal, for someone new to the game.  

He offered her everything he could think of, including his heart (although he had a deep seated notion he no longer had one).  Every time, she denied him.  Her friends were her source of strength, and on her own, she was worthy of the awards and acclaims she held as a journalist.  He had skimmed her pieces and immediately understood  _why_  Raphael invited her to Paris.  

She was brilliant.  Insufferable for standing in his way, but brilliant.

This game wouldn’t be as fun without her.  It had been a long time since someone challenged him, stood her ground, knew what she believed in.  

 Y _ou’d think I’m infatuated, the way she comes to mind_. He thought, letting out a derisive breath through his nose.

He looked at his phone, pulling up a photo of a blueprint, a rough map of the catacombs.  They ran directly under the square.  He knew the area, the space divided by a large column of stone and bones.  It was likely they had already done the work for him by now, if they were already here. He had lost so much time at Notre Dame.

“Park away from the square, I know another way down.”

* * *

“Nicely played, Ms. (l/n). I see I have little to teach you…”

He watched, barely able to hide his glee, as Raphael stumbled back down the corridor, reciting terrible poetry as he went.  Vincent had expected the essence to work, but the effects of it in large amounts were comical.  Especially on Raphael.  He knew the man couldn’t write a verse to save his life but… _that_  was just painful.

Her face was illuminated by the glowing torches and the essence, the colors conflicting across her features and casting them in orange and blue.  Hot and cold.  Much like her attitude towards him since their meeting.  

_They all succumb in the end…they always do._

“Why Vincent,” she smirked, “I thoroughly disagree!  I’m sure there are many fascinating tricks up your sleeve.  And many devious treats elsewhere on your person!”

_There’s that wicked charm of yours_.

“I have to admit, you’re not the first woman to tell me that.”

_And none of them make it sound as smooth as you do…they giggle far too much._

If he didn’t know any better, he was beginning to go along with her.  

“I’m not surprised,” she shrugged, and continued, “the truth is seen by many.”

He decided to take the bait.  He knew his own weakness; she would flatter his ego until she thought she could turn the situation in her favor.  In turn, she would expect him to fall for her charade and take her flirtations seriously.  

Although a part of him, a small part he had long since shoved away, wished it weren’t so.  

“You know, not many women capture my imagination like you do.”  He crooned, his hand falling to his tie as it had so many times before.  “You’re special…there’s more to you than you realize.”

He saw her eyes grow wide in fascination, enthralled by his words.  “Wow!  Tell me more…”

He chuckled darkly, finding himself mesmerized by her appearance, if only for a moment.  Maybe it was the essence, or the lighting, or maybe it was just whatever he had tried to push to the side since she stepped into his office that fateful night.  He was in control of his wits but he knew she was far from unattractive.  Smart, caring, quick on her feet.

“You know, I think I’ve forgotten the point I was making.  It’s your eyes…they’re dazzlingly hypnotic!”

_Get a hold of yourself, she’s playing you._ He thought. _Time to beat her at her own game_.

“All the better to admire you with!”  She quipped, and he briefly found himself wondering if she looked at her lovers the same way she was looking at him.  Her eyes fell right below his neck, the expression gone as quick as it came.  “Oh dear, your tie is crooked.  Will you let me straighten it?”

S _o that’s your angle, hmm?_

“With pleasure!”  He murmured.

She stepped forward and he lowered his hand from the knot, keeping them at his sides.  It was tempting to reach out and touch her, brush the stray hair from her face, ghost his fingers over her cheek.  She kept her eyes fixed on his tie but her lips still held her amused smile.  

She was close enough for him to smell her hair.  Orange, but with a hint of floral; blossoms, then, not the fruit.  He smelled her perfume mingling with it, along with other scents uniquely her.

How simple would it be, to lean down and…

_No.  Don’t even entertain such notions.  She doesn’t mean_ any  _of this._ He looked down at her again, her eyes flickering up to his for a moment and he found himself second-guessing himself.   _Does she?_

“Mmm…you smell of fresh orange blossom and…” he murmured, his eyes closed for a moment as she stepped back.  Vincent met her eyes again, his face impassive, allowing emotion to escape to his voice instead.  “Deceit!”

The journalist looked appalled.  “What?!”

“You’re a smart girl.”  Vincent started, folding his arms behind his back and raising his head to peer down at her further.  “But you’ll never outwit me.”

_You don’t mean those puppy dog eyes.  You were caught in a lie and now you don’t know what to do with yourself_. He thought venomously.   _No one ever means it.  Their sweet words are never true.  Not for people like me._

“Vincent…I…”  She stammered, surprised.  She hadn’t been expecting him to one-up her, to stay ahead of her.  

“Never.” He hissed.  “My trust is won by brazen betrayal, not seduction.  You must prove yourself by performing an act of treachery.  A pure treachery from which there is no return.”

_The point of no return.  And you, my dear, have reached yours._

“I’ll do anything you say.”  She replied.

She was too enthusiastic for his liking.  She shouldn’t be thrilled about his terms.  No one ever was.  But they all did it, in the end.  TJ certainly did, no questions asked.

“Good.”  Vincent paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts.  “I want you to go to TJ and tell him you’re turning him in.”

“Turning him in?  For what?”

She could play innocent very well, he gave her that.  A slightly stunned expression crossed his face, his eyebrows raised as his eyes widened.  “For stealing diamonds, of course.”  He chuckled as her surprised expression returned.  “Don’t think I don’t know about TJ’s confession to you.  You will go to TJ and call the police in front of him.”

Vincent stepped closed to her, eyes boring into hers.  He reminded himself to keep his breathing in check as he looked at her, hide the parts of him that simply wanted to whisper how much he admired her, how much he wanted this game to end with her at his side.  “I want him to see that it’s you who is betraying him,” he whispered.

“Vincent, isn’t there another way to prove myself to you?”

“No.  It’s my way or the highway, my dear.”

_I hate that turn of phrase.  Must come up with another one that isn’t a cliche._

He watched her retreating form down the dimly lit corridor until he could no longer hear her footsteps, see her in the darkness.  Vincent turned, watching the essence swirl for a moment.  It was bright, luminous, so much more than he was expecting it to be.  He rested a forearm above his head against the stone as he leant down to graze his other hand over the surface of the essence.  It was cool, a refreshing cool that came with a spring rain or a surprise day off.  Bordering on a chill from forgetting a jacket or being alone in a crowded room.  

Vincent recalled her eyes, just moments ago, reflecting torchlight and displaying so much passion, enthusiasm, for being with him, for a moment.  What if she had meant it and all he had done was snuff out what little affection could be harbored, pushed her away for good?  Did it even matter?

_I should have just kissed her._  He thought, his fingers breaking the surface of the liquid as he submerged his hand further, a warmth spreading across his skin the longer he kept it there.   _But what’s the fun of that without a little chase?_

He withdrew his hand quickly and turned back to the men awaiting his orders.  His brows furled and his eyes narrowed in annoyance for a moment.

“Secure the area and close off all entrances.  And if you see TJ Carter…”

He paused, mulling over the thought for a moment before a cruel smirk crossed his lips. She wouldn’t do it, she  _couldn’t._ It wasn’t like her to betray those she cared about.  If she had shown anything so far, it was how far she could dig her heels into the ground and withstand his challenges.  

“Kill him on sight.  And bring the journalist to me.”


End file.
